In The Sights
by Stephanie18
Summary: When a sniper begins targeting Eyes Only informants, Max and Logan can't help but get involved. When it's found that he's got ties to Manticore, Max begins taking it personally. S1. Subtle ML. Complete.
1. Prologue : Good Eye

In The Sights 

Summary: When a sniper begins targeting Eyes Only informants, Max and Logan can't help but get involved. When it's found that he's got ties to Manticore, Max begins taking it personally. S1. 

Disclaimer: Cameron and Eglee are my heroes. But I'm also my own hero, so take anything I own and I cut you! I cut you so bad that... that you wish I didn't cut you so bad. ;) Any Family Guy fans in the house? "Those are some bad roaches..." Heh. Yeah. Moving right along here. 

A/N: Gots ta give my props. The first few pages of The Silent Men by Richard H. Dickinson put the sniper-y thoughts in my head. Oh, and I even broke out my calculator for this one folks. I can't tell you how or why yet though. Suspense and all, y'know. Also, I dug out one of my classical CDs. The piece I chose to listen to during the prologue (while writing it) was the Adagio from the symphony in F-sharp minor "Abschiedssinfonie" by Haydn. Not that you care or anything, but I just needed to give all the proper props. Another song that goes well here (for me anyway) is "A Favor House Atlantic" by Coheed and Cambria. Okay. I'm done with my props. :) 

Timeline: After the transfusion, so Logan can - and does - walk. It makes things easier on us all. 

_Good eye, sniper  
I shoot, you run  
The words you scribbled on the walls  
With the loss of friends you didn't have  
I'll call you when the time is right  
Are you in or are you out?  
For them all to know the end of us all_  
-- Coheed and Cambria 

  
  
It was a Seattle night like any other. The air was cool and a slight drizzle fell from the heavens. Certainly though, not enough to wash away the years of dirt and grime the Pulse had caused. The neighborhood was average in all aspects. Houses were dilapidated but the signs of people living inside were there. Some yards were unattended and a general feeling of despair hung about, in some places thicker than others, but there was also a twinge of hope somewhere in the air. 

The man standing at the corner of Terrace and Church was obviously not of the local surroundings. His clothes - a long, black overcoat, starched dark slacks, and a navy sweater - were crisp and fresh. His hat was tipped over his eyes and he gently clutched a briefcase in his left hand. The air about him was fierce and seemed impenetrable. His vision did not waver from the top window of Thirty-three Church Street, where a faint light still shown through brightly. 

He had stood motionless for well over an hour before the light was finally extinguished. It was then the statue of a man moved into action. He glanced up and down the street both ways, then moved at a leisurely pace toward Thirty-four Church Street, directly adjacent to number Thirty-three. He pushed the door open without much trouble and did a quick sweep of the room with his eyes before entering. 

There was nothing inside but a thick layer of dust that kept his already muted footsteps to a decibel that no living creature could detect. He moved toward the stairs and made his way up. Using the intelligence he had on the building, he moved down the long hallway and entered the final door on his left. He moved toward the window and opened it, allowing the chill air to penetrate the stale room. He let the air rush over his face for a moment before setting his briefcase down. He opened it in a way that was obviously religious to him. He carefully bent over the pieces in the suitcase and constructed them to become something he could use. 

Once he had finished piecing together his rifle, he set it on the windowsill and crouched into position near it. The scope allowed him to see clear across the street and the infrared allowed him to see through the darkness in the room. The intelligence he received informed him that the target turned out the lights around eleven PM every night and continued nightly rituals until at least eleven-twenty PM, when he would disappear from the window until the next morning. 

With one hand, he expertly reached down into the briefcase where a tiny tape player was snuggled into a corner and pushed the play button. A soft classical melody (his favorite) began playing. His heart did not race, he did not sweat, and he was not impatient. He placed his hand back on the rifle, his index finger gently resting on the trigger. A minute or so passed before he saw his first clean shot. 

He took it. 

The rifle didn't make much sound and the man absorbed the recoil with no trouble. Once he saw the target drop from his sight, he waited. When he was satisfied that the man would not be getting up and no one would be coming to help, he began taking the rifle apart. Once all the pieces were in place, he switched off the cassette player and shut the briefcase, then the window. Satisfied with his work, he picked up his briefcase and disappeared from the house. 


	2. One : Taking Things Slow

Max wasn't in any real hurry to get to Logan's. The weather was somewhat pleasant for once and she was still on the clock, which were two perfectly good reasons to give everything an extra minute or two. Usually when he paged she sped right over, ready to hear the latest news on the corrupt bad guy of the week, but today she just wasn't in the mindset. Instead of blazing through crowded streets of people, using her enhanced genetics and motor skills to avoid any collisions, she was lazily winding through the huddled masses, even tossing an apology over her shoulder when she got just a bit too close for someone's comfort. Today was a good day. 

She finally arrived at Logan's, forty-five minutes later than she was sure Logan had expected, and left her bicycle standing near the Aztek. She stretched when she got off her bike and made her way to the building's entrance. She smiled at the doorman and even stopped to engage in a small conversation with him about the weather. She noted the somewhat surprised look on the man's face and enjoyed it. Any day that she could catch people unawares and shock them - even just a smidgen - was a good day. As she pressed the button for the elevator, her smile grew wider at the thought of seeing Logan up and _walking_. 

At times she felt like pulling strangers aside on the street and telling them that she had finally helped someone out. It had taken a while, she knew, but it was still satisfying. And it opened a whole new door. But she wasn't sure she was ready to step inside yet. After all, they had plenty of time before to take that leap. She decided finally that only time would tell. 

Max stepped out of the elevator and walked to Logan's door, noting the obscure artwork that lined the walls. She had never really paid attention to it before and now could clearly see why: most of it looked like a toddler had simply gone to town with a few tubes of finger-paint. Shaking her head, she picked the lock and walked into the penthouse. 

The sound of furious typing kept her from calling out. There would be no use really. Logan would just respond with what she already knew. Smile still in place, she walked toward the computer room, just enjoying the relaxing pace. She leaned against the door frame and watched Logan work for a minute before announcing her presence with a deep exhalation of breath. 

"Traffic?" He asked, not bothering to turn around. 

"No." She answered, crossing her arms and still enjoying her good day. 

"Then why're you so late?" He asked, this time swiveling around in his chair to face her. The fact that she glanced down at the average, run-of-the-mill computer chair didn't go unnoticed by either party. 

She shrugged. "It's nice out for once and I'm not too eager to get back to work. It's a good day for once and taking it slow is a nice change." 

His eyes were intense. "Thing is, it's _not_ a good day." 

Her smile faded and she knew that whatever Logan had paged her for was going to completely demolish her good mood. 


	3. Two : Work, Work, Food

She pushed away from the door frame and just stood in the doorway, motionless, trying to think of ways that the day could still end up as a good one. When she found herself coming up way more than just 'short,' she put on her routine "save the world, blah blah woof woof" mask. 

"What do you mean?" She asked. 

He turned to face the computer again, a signal for her to go read over his shoulder she had learned, and punched in a few more commands. A file came up shortly after. It was a middle-aged man with dark hair and green eyes, and he didn't look very exceptional at all. Next to the picture was an obituary that Max merely scanned over. Logan brought up another picture and obituary, then another, and another. 

"All four were informants of Eyes Only." He told her. He cocked his head to look up at her. "All four were killed in the same way." 

"No offense here," She said, turning to look at him. "But you didn't notice after the second guy got hit?" 

He shrugged it off. "It's not the first time it's happened. Informants aren't exactly loved, Max. There's been times before when two or three came up dead or missing in a short period of time. It's always the ones that are the most outside of the Net. They're easier to find." 

"So, what's so different about this?" 

"Like I said," He turned back to the computer and pulled up more files. "They all died in the same exact way. Each of their obituaries said 'died in the home.' That only means one of three things: overdose, suicide, or homicide. These guys weren't users and it certainly wasn't suicide. I dug deeper and found that they'd each been struck down by what looks to be a sniper." 

"A sniper?" She asked. "Why a sniper, of all things? I mean, wouldn't it be easier - and cheaper - to just get some thugs to go in there, guns blazing?" 

"That's what I'm trying to find out." He told her. "All I can tell so far is that whoever did it, whether they did it themselves or got some hired help, wanted the job done efficiently." 

"I guess they got what they wanted, huh?" 

"Guess so." He mumbled and closed at the windows on the screen. He sighed then looked up at her and offered a smile. "So, you hungry?" 

She grinned back. "Look who you're askin'." 

"Right." He said and stood. They were both quiet for a moment, both thinking about the same thing: how tall he was. "So, what're you in the mood for?" 

"Just your average, everyday, spur of the moment culinary miracle." She shrugged. 

"You know, I think I might have some of that." 

"How lucky for me then, right?" She smirked and followed him into the kitchen. 

"Now," He asked as he dug around in the refrigerator. "Should I make this to go since you're a modern working girl?" 

"Turn around and see the look I'm giving you right now. I dare you." 

Logan declined without a reply and began taking different salad ingredients from the refrigerator. He set them on the counter, then began looking for a main course. He knew Max had already begun munching on the baby tomatoes. He smiled to himself and shook his head, then pulled some chicken from the fridge and set it next to the lettuce. He closed the fridge door with his foot, at the same time grabbing a bowl from the cupboard. 

"How do you manage to find these things so fresh?" Max asked, popping another baby tomato in her mouth. She noticed the way Logan was looking at her and wasn't sure if it was 'Oh, you're too much' or 'Oh, you're an idiot.' She swallowed the rest of the tomato and arched an eyebrow. "What?" 

"Nothing." He smirked. "Nothing." 

  
  
A/N: I've got a great deal of this finished and am just working out the ending, so you can expect pretty regular updates. 


	4. Three : Info Gatherings

Max rolled into Jam Pony around five minutes before the work day officially ended. She ignored Normal's ranting of the 'no bikes inside' policy and hopped off her bike in the middle of the room. She placed it on one of the racks and stopped to let Sketchy talk to her about some crazy pyramid scheme. 

"Hey, missy miss!" Normal called to her. 

Max rolled her eyes and turned on her heel to face him. "Normal, cancel my magazine subscription 'cause I'm sick of your issues." 

She smiled sweetly and walked off toward her locker. She opened it and pulled out her bottle of tryptophan. After making sure that there was enough to ward off a sudden seizure while she was working, she put the cap back on the bottle and placed it back on its shelf. Deciding that she didn't really have to worry about anything else inside, she shut the door and was only half surprised to see Original Cindy standing next to her, grinning. 

"Where were you?" 

"I had lunch with Logan." Max rolled her eyes. She knew what was coming. 

"With Logan or _at_ Logan's?" 

"Both." Max replied. Before Cindy could continue, Max raised a hand to stop her. "And eating _with_ Logan at Logan's does not imply the sort of intimate atmosphere you are about to bring up and rag me endlessly about." 

Original Cindy was slightly taken aback. She grinned and recovered quickly. "Was just gonna ask you what you had, but then you get all defensive. Makes a person wonder where your mind really is." 

Max shook her head. "You're good." 

"Original Cindy knows it." 

"So, Crash tonight?" Max was eager to change the subject. Her good day turned bad was slowly turning back to the good side of things and she didn't want the complicated thoughts she sometimes had about Logan distracting her. 

"Aiight." OC nodded. 

* * * * 

Across town, the sniper sat in his apartment, browsing through another intelligence file. He settled himself in his favorite overstuffed armchair and sipped leisurely at a steaming cup of imported coffee. He set the mug down and dug deeper into the file. 

The target was more upscale than his previous missions. The photos of the home suggested that the woman lived a high class life. _Born with a silver spoon in her mouth,_ he thought as he looked over the woman's credit card statements. Two months previously she had bought a Jaguar, plasma screen television, and rented a hotel room at one of the most expensive hotels in the country. She didn't seem to be the typical Eyes Only informant. 

But that didn't matter to him. What mattered was completing the mission and receiving his pay. 


	5. Four : Quieter Than The Stars

When the sniper had appeared at the end of Bethel Court, Max had been sharing a pitcher of beer with her friends from work. When he had been making his way toward his vantage point, Logan had been doing research for a hack. When he had been setting up the rifle, Max had been playing a game of pool with Original Cindy. When he had pressed the play button on his tape player, Logan had been getting a glass of water. When he had been waiting for his target to come into his sights, Max had been dialing Logan's number. When he squeezed the trigger and the bullet ripped through the target, Max and Logan had been talking on the phone. When he had been packing up his things, they had hung up. When he was disappearing from the scene, they had gone back to what they were doing... 

Now Logan was standing outside the barricade, waiting for Matt Sung to finish up inside the house and meet him. He had paged Max, but wasn't sure if he could count on an immediate response, especially if she was out with her friends. She sometimes tended to let her pager go off for hours on end. 

Matt exited the house. Once he spotted Logan, he nodded at him and made his way over. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around him, making sure no one was eavesdropping. "It was her." 

"You're sure?" Logan asked. He already knew it was her. She was an informant, her information had been stored on his computer, and this was her address. 

"Positive." Matt said. He paused for a moment. "So, have you got any ideas? Any leads? You think... _he_ could help out here?" 

"He's on it." Logan told him, then sighed. "Was there - Was there anything inside?" 

Matt shook his head. "He never leaves anything. He goes in the house across the street, shoots, and goes. He's good, Logan. Maybe too good." 

"What about the family in the house he was in?" Logan asked. 

"They claim they didn't hear anything." Matt told him. "We're working on it, but I think they might be telling the truth. If this guy's trained... that's just what he's trained to do." 

"Not leave any evidence and be quieter than the stars." 

* * * * 

Logan got home late. Much later than he would have liked, in fact. He had gone to a secure location with Matt to share information on the case, but it hadn't helped much. They just seemed to keep repeating the same things over and over. Finally they decided to give it a rest and headed out. 

When Logan had walked into his living room, he got a bit of a surprise. Max was laying on his sofa, gently snoozing. He smiled down at her and remembered her mentioning that she hadn't slept in over a week. 

_You should've just gone home._ He thought as he carefully put a blanket over her. _My pages are just matters of the downtrodden, right? Blah, blah, woof, woof._

  
  
A/N: I'm going to try to post two chapters at a time. Depends on how strapped for time I am when I post. :) 


	6. Five : More Offerings

A man was sitting on a park bench. On the outside he looked calm and collected, but inside he was growing impatient and falling to pieces. He sighed and checked his watch: twelve-twenty. The other man should have been there by now. He was about ready to take his cell out of his pocket and give the other man a ring, but a voice to his left stopped him. 

"Sir." 

The man on the bench turned to face the other man. It was who he was waiting for. It was the sniper, a man with the code name Artemis. He nodded and gestured for Artemis to sit with him on the bench. 

Artemis nodded and sat next to the man, his briefcase perched on his lap. "I completed the objective, Sir." 

The other man smiled at his code name. It made him feel important, _respected_. "Good, good. But we aren't finished here." 

"I suspected as much." Artemis replied. "May I have my payment?" 

Sir nodded and two pieces of paper from his pocket. One was a check and the other was a plain slip of paper with a name and address written on it. Sir put the plain paper over the check and handed both to the other man. "I think you'll find that satisfactory." 

Artemis glanced over both papers, then opened his briefcase and tucked them inside. He noticed the other man glance at his rifle and shut the case. "I assume he lives alone?" 

"Yes." Sir nodded. "You won't have to worry about any mistaken identities." 

"I'll meet you again tomorrow then." Artemis smiled and stood up, clutching his briefcase in his left hand. 

"I'll pencil it in." Sir smirked wryly. 

Artemis continued smiling and walked away. He stopped before disappearing into the shadows and muttered over his shoulder, "Good luck finding your kids, Deck." 

* * * * 

Max opened her eyes and rolled onto her side. She yawned and stretched, then remembered that she wasn't in her apartment. She slapped her hand to her forehead and began to mentally berate herself, but the smell of coffee and pancakes interrupted her. She decided to be a good "guest" (or "woman who fell asleep on the couch") so she threw the blanket off herself and made her way into the kitchen. 

"Morning." Logan greeted her with a smile. 

"Work!" She suddenly blurted, slapping a hand to her forehead. She winced. _Why the hell did I just bring work up?_

"Uh... well, I already called Normal and told him that you had a doctor's appointment. You'll have an excuse." He stopped to look her over. "Are you all right? I mean, you were just concerned about work there for a minute. Stomach pains? Fever? Stroke?" 

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Just a weird little thing there I guess. So, uh, you wanna feed the girl that fell asleep on your couch?" 

He shrugged. "I suppose I could do such a thing. So, what time did you show up here at?" 

She took a seat on the counter and watched him begin pulling food from the fridge. "Well, I got your page around maybe eleven-thirty and I was gonna call, but Sketchy hopped up onto the bar with his bike and started doing the best tricks I've seen in - uh... I called after, at around one or so and you didn't answer, so I bounced over. You weren't home yet so I figure a cat nap wouldn't hurt." 

"I guess it turned into a cat deep sleep, huh?" He was cracking eggs for an omelet. 

She smiled a bit and turned to look at the floor. After a moment, she asked, "Who was it this time?" 

Logan faltered for a minute and he had hoped Max didn't notice. She did, but said nothing. "Her name was Rebecca. She was, uh, like me. The black sheep of a rich family and all that. She did some good work." 

"I'm sorry." She said quietly. _I wish I could offer you more._

  
  
A/N: Due to Easter madness, I could only give you this chapter. Also, my internet is getting cut off tomorrow. It shouldn't present that big of a problem though because it shouldn't be off for long.   
Oh, and about idlehands452's question about maybe combining the chapters, it really only has to do with the way I have the bulk of the story set up in my Wordpad program, so it's just gonna continue to be the two shorter chapters deal. :) 


	7. Six : Phone Calls

Max slapped the forged doctor's excuse on Normal's counter with a a sarcastic grin and went off toward her locker. She spotted Original Cindy sprawled on the small bench, her coat thrown over her head. Max paused to take in the rare scene, then chuckled to herself and wandered over to her friend. 

She plucked the coat off her friend's face. "Late night, boo?" 

Original Cindy groaned and sat up. "Met a fine female last night after you left and didn't pay attention to how much I was drinkin'." 

"Ohh, talking about yourself in the first person. You _must_ be payin' for it pretty rough now, huh?" Max smirked and opened her locker. 

"Boo, I'm lucky there ain't two of you right now. All this girl is looking forward to is going home, watching some Xena episodes I taped, and passing out with a bottle of Tylenol in my hand." 

Max shook her head, her smirk not fading. She tapped OC gently on the shoulder. "You go and fulfill that dream. I'll take your runs for you." 

"I can't let you do that." Original Cindy shook her head. "It would mean you'd actually have to do some straight up _work_ around here." 

Max just continued smiling. "I got plenty of sleep last night. I'm wired. A few good runs'll do me good. You go on home and I'll square it away with Normal." 

Original Cindy got to her feet and gave Max a quick hug. "You are the best boo a girl could have." 

"Make sure you keep a pen and paper close too." Max said. "You know, in case you think of any witty 'Max falling asleep at Logan's penthouse' remarks." 

OC smiled weakly. "Will do." 

* * * * 

Bling noted Logan's impatience, so he took longer than necessary to set up the treadmill. He also knew that Logan knew he could set it up perfectly well by himself, so he took some time to stop and stare at the machine with a confused expression at the times when Logan seemed most irritated. With a final chuckle, he stepped away from the machine and gestured for Logan to hop on. 

Logan stepped onto the treadmill and switched it on. He kept it at a slow pace, for he knew Bling would just tut and turn it to a lesser speed. "So, what do you think?" 

"And all of them were informants?" Bling asked, watching Logan to see if anything he was doing needed correcting. 

"Yeah, and they were all killed in the same way. Sniper." 

Bling let out a low whistle. "I'd say someone's gunnin' for you, man. What's Max think about it?" 

Logan shot him a look and wondered why everyone always brought Max up when it came to decisions or people wanting him dead. "She didn't say a lot, but she seems to care." 

The phone rang and Bling went to go get it. He came back a moment later, the phone in his hand. "It's Matt. He says he thinks he might have information for you." 


	8. Seven : And More Phone Calls

Logan shut off the treadmill and took the phone from Bling. "Matt?" 

_"Yeah."_

"Bling said you thought you might know something." Logan said. He made a hand signal to indicate he was writing and Blind nodded and went to get a pencil and paper. 

_"Yeah. There was another shooting today, but it was totally unrelated. Nothing matches up. But I guess the government didn't hear it wasn't related to the sniper because they sent a team down here. FBI, CIA maybe. I'm not sure."_

Logan accepted the pencil and paper from Bling and jotted down a few notes. "Get anything else?" 

_"I think I know who's in charge, cause all of the guys are taking orders from him. But as soon as they came and found out it wasn't the sniper, they left. I think they're trying to shut the case down. Any ideas on why they would want to do that?"_

"A sniper doesn't take out Eyes Only informants for nothing." Logan said. "Maybe they're involved. Did you happen to get any names?" 

_"Just one. The guy in charge. When he blazed by me with his ID out, he mumbled it. Lydocker maybe."_

"Lydecker." Logan wasn't even aware that he'd spoken the name until Matt's voice was in his ear again. 

_"Yeah, that's it. Well, that's all I got."_

"All right, thanks Matt." Logan hung up the phone and turned to Bling. 

"I'm taking it this is more bad news." Bling said. 

* * * * 

"Come on, Logan, tell me." Max demanded. She turned her back to Normal so she wouldn't have to see the looks he was undoubtedly giving her. 

_"Look, I'd rather not tell you over the phone. Especially at work. Can't you just swing by on your next run?"_

Max frowned. "No. I took all of Cindy's runs so she could leave early. She was sick and Normal's been busting my ass down here. I can't let her lose a paycheck." 

She heard Logan sigh. _"Okay, I understand. Just stop by when you're finished. It's important."_

"After I get out of here I'm gonna check on Cindy, but then right after that I'll be at your door." She promised. She could tell Normal was walking toward her, so she gave a quick good-bye and hung up the phone. She whirled around to face Normal before he could make a remark. "Yes, sir?" 

"Sir." Normal scoffed and handed Max an armful of packages. "Sir. That's a good one coming from one of you hooligans. Bip, bip!" 

* * * * 

It was around ten when Max finally picked the lock to Logan's apartment. She had worked overtime and it had taken her an hour to make sure Cindy was all right with everything, then there was another fifteen minutes of changing out of her work clothes. 

As she passed the couch and thoughts of jumping on it and not getting up for hours flew through her head, she realized how worn out she was. She made her way into the computer room and propped herself up against the door frame. She watched Logan and Bling talk for a few minutes before announcing her arrival. 

"Nice to see ya, Max." Bling gave a nod. 

"Back at you." She said and moved to perch on the edge of the computer desk. "So, Mr. Quixote, what's the good - or should I say bad - word?" 

Logan didn't bother smiling at her small joke. "I don't know how I should tell you this, so I'm just going to say it. Lydecker's been scouting out shootings in the area. I think Manticore's involved." 

The phone rang and Bling left to answer it. Max stood stunned. 

"_Lydecker_? Logan, that's... Lydecker? He's probably found me again. He knows. He _must_ know. Jesus, Logan!" 

"Max, calm down. I'm sure he hasn't -" 

Before Logan could continue, Bling entered the room again, the phone in his hand. 

"Logan, it's Matt. He says there's been another shooting." 

  
  
A/N: I was thinking about something. I thought of going back to what I'd already written and tweaking it to seem more M/L, but then I didn't. I'm not the best person to be writing all of that "I love you. No, I love you more." stuff. Plus, this is supposed to be a season one fic and things just weren't that way. I have the sequel to Masquerade to be throwing all the mushy feelings into, which I totally plan on doing.  
  
Yeah, I am doing a sequel to Masquerade. I'm in the process of writing it right now, in fact. Anybody care? 


	9. Eight : Goose Chase

After Logan made sure he had all the information, he hung up the phone. He scanned over the notepad quickly, then turned to the computer and began pulling up files. While he was busy doing that, Max looked over the notepad without either Logan or Bling noticing. 

"How's it look?" Bling asked. 

"It's a pattern." Logan told him. "Whoever it is is slowly moving toward the core of the informants. They're still a long, long ways off but with the way they're moving, they'll be able to make it." 

Bling moved closer to the computer screen to read. When both men were busy, Max made her way out the door. 

"Any clue who it is yet?" Bling asked. 

Logan shook his head. "They're not leaving behind any clues or anything. Hey, Max, do you think - where'd she go?" 

Bling tapped the notepad. "I'm guessing she's gone to the address you wrote down here." 

Logan smirked. "What business would Max have at a storage warehouse?" 

"You're good." Bling chuckled. "But you know how pissed she's gonna be, right?" 

"Yeah." Logan stood. "But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, we have a crime scene to get to." 

* * * * 

When Max had found herself in the industrial sector, she was willing to keep going. After all, the sniper could've taken out an informant by setting up a fake meet, or maybe it was a guy on the job. When she passed the first few completely dead warehouses, she began to curse Logan's name. Finally, when she pulled to a stop in front of the address, which was an empty warehouse, she cursed everything about Logan and his 'be careful' attitude. 

She turned her bike around and went off in the direction she had come from, with thoughts of telling Logan that she could take care of herself dancing in her head. 

* * * * 

Logan again stood behind the barricade waiting for Matt to exit the building. This time, however, he was trying to keep an extremely low profile because of all the government men roaming around. It was when Lydecker stepped out of the building that he was particularly relieved that he had sent Max on a wild goose chase. 

"Logan!" 

Logan turned at the sound of his name and saw Matt forcing his way through a small crowd of government soldiers who didn't seem to be doing much at all. He went to meet Matt halfway and Matt pulled him behind one of the police vans. 

"The name was Miles Robinson. Was he... you know?" 

Logan nodded. "He says they're getting closer and closer inside, Matt. It's starting to get a little worrisome." 

"The guy leaves nothing." Matt shook his head. "He's good. I've tried to get some stuff on whoever it might be, but it's next to impossible. All I can do is call you and have you come down." 

"I'll have to see if I can get a pattern going." Logan said. "Maybe work with him, ya know? Maybe match up info or something." 

"I want to find this guy, Logan." Matt said. "Even for me it's starting to get to that personal point. The work these people were doing... they were the good guys." 


	10. Nine : Is It Trust Or What?

Logan knew the door wouldn't be locked. Max would have already picked it and would no doubt be inside, ready to rip him apart. He took a deep breath and entered the apartment. He took his jacket off and listened. Nothing. 

_This isn't my favorite game._ He thought and made his way to the kitchen. She wasn't there. That only left the living room and the computer room. She wasn't in the living room when he checked, so he braced himself when he opened the door to the computer room. 

He could see her form in the dark and half considered not turning the light on. He did anyway. She was sitting in the computer chair with perfect posture. Her face held no expression, but her eyes said plainly, 'Logan, I am ever so mad at you.' Neither spoke for some time. 

"Hello, Logan." Her tone was flat when she finally spoke. 

"Hello, Max." He tried to match her tone, but found it impossible. _It must be something she's perfected over time._

"You know, the address you wrote down on the notepad was... wrong." She said, her eyes quickly flitting to the notepad in question, then back to him. 

"Oh?" He tried to act confused and surprised. 

"Oh, yes." She said. "It's a warehouse in the industrial district. You'll not be shocked to learn that there was no shooting there." 

"Oh?" 

"Yes, oh." She continued. "Imagine, you writing down the wrong address. Funny how that happened, isn't it?" 

"Oh, yes. Very funny indeed." 

"And, you know, it's also funny how you must've then called Matt to double check the address and found you were wrong." She went on. "And then even funnier how you didn't think to page me and let me know." 

"Yeah, things do work out in the strangest ways, don't they?" He tried to smile, but found her lack of emotion scary and couldn't. 

She sighed and her demeanor became her usual 'I'm unhappy with you specifically, Logan.' "You know, if you didn't think you could trust me, you could've just said something to me. I would've held back." 

"Whoa, when did this become about trust?" He replied defensively. "Max, I trust you explicitly." 

"Then why'd you send me out to that warehouse?" She sprang out of the computer chair. "If it's not about trust, what is it about?" 

"Max, I don't want you to -" 

"If the next words out of your mouth are going to be 'get hurt,' please don't even bother." Max crossed her arms. "I've been taking care of myself long enough to know how to survive out there." 

"I didn't mean it like that." He sighed. He wasn't looking for a fight, but thought she might be. "I just meant..." 

"Just meant what, Logan? Inquiring minds want to know." 

"Max, I just..." He sighed in frustration. "I just don't want you hurt." 

"So, you trust me, but not enough to believe I can take care of myself?" She shook her head. "Your logic is horrible sometimes, you know that?" 

"Max... I don't know what to say here." 

"I do." She said. "And it's 'I'm leaving.' If you decide that I can be trusted enough to do what I've been doing for ten years now, please give me a call." 

Before he could reply, she walked past him and was out the door. He sighed and sat in the empty computer chair. He didn't regret keeping Max from the area that was swarming with Manticore troops, but he did regret the way he did it. But he wouldn't call her to apologize just yet. He decided that they probably needed a little breather from the sniper case. He pinched the bridge of his nose and just sat. 

* * * 

He checked his watch. Two AM. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and stared at it. When it came to life a minute after, he flicked it open and answered. 

"Hello?" 

_"Hit."_

The line then went dead. He smiled and placed his cellphone back in his pocket, then picked up his briefcase and continued walking. 

  
  
A/N: You know, I'm taking some good advice and not changing a thing. :) 


	11. Ten : Even Care

He was cleaning his rifle when the phone rang. He let out a small sigh and answered it. 

"Hello?" 

_"I've got something for you."_ It was Sir. 

"Where will we meet?" He asked. 

_"Nowhere. I'll leave the information at the base of the Needle tomorrow night at midnight. You can pick it up after."_

He frowned. He knew that Sir was well aware that the Space Needle was extremely inconvenient for him. It would take at last an hour to reach it. "All right." 

_"I'll contact you after you've completed the objective."_ The line went dead. 

* * * * 

Logan awoke with a start. He had been dreaming of Max and himself stranded on an island made of chocolate. The inhabitants were a marshmallow and angry people. He shook his head and wondered what had woken him. It had been the television in the living room. 

_It's so loud Max can probably hear it from her apartment._ Logan thought and threw the covers off himself. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and smiled. The transfusion still seemed to be working. _I'll have to thank Max for that again... after I think of some way to make amends._

Sighing, he got out of bed and pulled on his robe. He walked into the living room and found a strange little boy sitting on the couch, watching an extremely loud cartoon. Before he could ask who he was, Bling walked into the room. 

"Jay, I thought I told you to turn that TV dow - oh, hey Logan." 

"Hey." Logan said, tearing his gaze from the multicolored animals bopping around on the screen. "What're you doing here so early? And who's the kid?" 

"First, sorry about Jay here. My sister asked me to watch him and I couldn't say no. Second, it's not early. It's about three-thirty." 

"You're kidding, right?" 

"Logan, there are things I never lie about." Bling replied. "One of them is time." 

"I slept the day away." Logan raked a hand through his hair. "That means I'm going to have to pull an all-nighter. I'm so behind right now. I've got patterns to figure out, trajectories, oh... I don't even wanna think about it." 

"Also, it'd be nice if you could fit in that session with me that was for an hour ago." 

Logan slapped a hand to his forehead. "Ah! Sorry! I'll - I'll go get ready and we can do that." 

* * * 

"It's not like I even care." 

Original Cindy scoffed and followed Max outside. "Please, boo, don't insult Original Cindy like that." 

Max arched an eyebrow and got on her bicycle. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"You hit your head or somethin'?" OC asked, getting on her own bike. "You're talking to Original Cindy like she doesn't know you better than you do." 

"I don't know what you mean." Max said and started off. 

"You ain't gonna get rid of Original Cindy that easy!" OC said and followed Max. "You're mad 'cause you had a fight with your sugar daddy." 

"I'm not mad and he's not my sugar daddy." Max clipped. 

"Okay, then what are you and who is he?" OC asked. 

"Oops, looks like we have to go different ways. See ya!" Max carefully maneuvered her bike around the nearest corner and sped off, leaving Original Cindy looking after her. 

"You must really like that fool." Original Cindy shook her head and went on her way. 

A/N: Just an amusing little thing... the last chapter had 666 words in it, including the author's note. I giggled. 


	12. Eleven : Messages

Max sat on the edge of the Space Needle, letting her legs dangle off the side. Normal people, she knew, would have been terrified, but as the wind whipped across her face, she never felt more alive. She took a moment to look up at the clouds and saw that they were dark - a storm would be coming. She looked back down at the city and noted how quiet it was that night. Usually if she tweaked her senses even just a bit, she could make the various city noises - sirens, cars backfiring, and sometimes even screams. 

Deciding that she wanted to beat the storm home, she carefully pulled herself to her feet and headed back inside the Needle. When she was on the third flight of stairs, she heard a car drive up. She thought nothing of it, however, because it was still a city full of ordinary people after all... but when she heard the door to the entrance of the Space Needle open, she stopped and listened. A few footsteps, the door closing again, and the car driving off - that was it. Curious, she bounded down the remaining stairs and made her way to the long forgotten lobby. 

Everything was perfectly in place, except for something in the corner. It was small and she couldn't quite tell what it was, so she walked over to it. Once she saw that it was a folder - a full one, at that - she picked it up and removed it from its ziplock bag. She flipped through the contents curiously, wondering who would leave something in the Space Needle of all places. 

Her eyes widened when she realized just what the folder was. She memorized the contents then quickly placed the folder back in the ziplock bag and tossed it back in the corner. She left in a hurry, intent on getting there first. 

* * * * 

It was well beyond dark when he reached the Space Needle. He pulled the key from the ignition and just sat, listening to the rain pound down on the roof and hood of the car. He grabbed his hat from the passenger seat and placed it squarely on his head. He opened the car door and stepped out into the pouring rain. He looked around, making sure that no one had followed him, then made his way to the base of the Needle. He was somewhat surprised that the door leading inside was relatively easy to open. 

Once inside, he looked around. The file he was looking for was in the corner nearest to the door and carefully placed in a ziplock bag. He strolled over to it and snatched it up off the floor. Deciding not to bother browsing through it until he had gotten back to the car, he left the building, closing the door quietly behind him. 

* * * * 

Logan set the bag of groceries down on the counter and stared down into the bag. 

_They can wait._ He thought and went to the answering machine. _Maybe Max called. Maybe I should call Max and apologize. I'll offer her a culinary masterpiece and tell her that we can talk about how much of an ass I am over dinner if she'd like._

He smiled at the thought and pressed the 'play' button on the machine. He was more then surprised when Max's voice rang out urgently from the machine. 

_"Look, you might not trust me, but I trust you with this. I found something at the Space Needle, a file. It was for the sniper, I think. It's got all this info on an informant and it said to move within the hour. Logan, I know who the next victim is and I'm going to stop him. The guy's name is Andrew Lukens. You can look him up if you want, but right now I've got somewhere to be."_

Logan was aware that another message started playing, but he paid no attention. He rushed into the computer room and quickly looked up Andrew Lukens in his database. 


	13. Twelve : Objectives

A/N: I'm not sure how clear the time is, but it's late night/early morning. I wasn't sure if the fact that Max was hanging out on the Space Needle was enough indication, so I thought I'd put this little note here. 

  
  
Max parked her Ninja a block away from the address. She crept carefully and quietly through people's backyards and short alleyways until she reached the house. She looked through the downstairs windows and then went around to the back door. Just as she was about to pick the lock, she remembered something. 

The sniper always shot from across the street. 

Revising her plan, she crept away from the backdoor and darted across the street in a blur. She picked the lock to the house across the street and let herself in, closing the door silently behind her. She crept through the house quietly as she looked for the room the sniper would use as his vantage point. After figuring out trajectories and paths the bullet could travel, she settled on the first door to her right. She opened the door slowly in case it was a bedroom. It was, and the small boy was still sound asleep. Unsure of how everything would work out, Max slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. 

Instantly, something wet and cold slapped over her mouth and nose. She breathed in and realized her mistake. Chloroform. She managed to push away from the attacker, but it didn't do much good. She stumbled over a toy train and fell to the ground. She had managed to shake off most of the effects of the chloroform, but her vision was still blurry. As she tried to stand, her attacker kicked her back down and jabbed a needle into her arm. She broke away from him and pulled the needle from her arm. Now desperate to get out of the situation, she got to her feet again and went for the door, but lost consciousness before she did and dropped to the floor. 

He shook his head and looked down at the girl on the floor. He decided to deal with her later and went to the end of the bed, where his briefcase was resting. He set it on the bed and opened it. He threw a quick glance at the boy and was relieved to see his chest rise and fall slowly. The drugs would have the child knocked out for some time. 

_If it isn't part of the objective, leave it as relatively untouched as possible._ He thought as he assembled his rifle. He looked over his work, then smiled to himself and pressed the 'play' button on the small cassette player in his briefcase. He stood by the window, waiting patiently. It had taken longer than he would have liked for the man's wife to step out of his line of fire and for the man to walk into it. 

He took his shot and waited. He saw the bullet tear through the man and cursed. It was a gut shot and the man would not be immediately dead. Shaking his head, he realigned the rifle and waited for the wife to step into the line of fire. He couldn't let her get to a phone and call an ambulance. Now neither of the pair could live. As she stood over her husband, he took the shot. 

Now satisfied, he pulled away from the window and went back to the bed. He took the rifle apart expertly and placed all the pieces in their proper places, then shut off the cassette player. He shut the briefcase and placed his hat on his head. He took the briefcase with his left hand, then went over to the girl. Knowing that he couldn't leave her (leaving her would mean leaving questions), he gathered her up with his right hand and threw her over his right shoulder, then left the house. 

* * * 

Logan pulled onto the street and scanned the area for Max's bike. Seeing no trace of her, he stopped and waited. It didn't take long for him to see some action. He saw a man leave the house across from Andrew's, carrying a briefcase and a woman over his shoulders. As the man walked down the street toward a car, Logan could see that the woman was Max. Rather than blow his cover and position, Logan waited. He watched the man place Max in the car and then sit in the driver's seat. 

When the car drove off, Logan followed. 


	14. Thirteen : The Ball Game Is As Follows

Logan had followed the car into the very same sector where he himself lived. The car pulled to a stop at the end of the street and parallel parked. Logan parked the Aztek, got out, and walked to the doorway of the nearest building. He pretended to push the intercom button and had a fake conversation, all the while watching the man down the street. 

* * * 

He got out of the car, clutching his briefcase in his left hand. He opened the rear door and used his free hand to pull Max from the vehicle and gently threw her over his shoulder. He kicked the door closed then made his way to the nearest building, his home. He explained to the doorman with a charming smile that the girl was his niece and had a terrible drinking problem. He turned down the doorman's offer of help and made his way to the elevator. He used the back of his left hand to press the button for the doors to open. He bid goodnight to the doorman once more, then stepped in the elevator and pushed the button for his floor. 

* * * 

Outside, Logan had returned to the Aztek and had dialed Bling on his cellphone. "Bling?" 

_"Yeah?"_ It was obvious that Logan had woken the man up, but Logan didn't have time for apologies. 

"Look, I'm outside the sniper's place and he has Max. You need to call Matt Sung and tell him to get down here. I think it's Perch Street." 

_"Okay, I got it. Logan, don't go bursting in there. You don't know what he's capable of."_

"I know, I know." Logan sighed. "I just keep telling myself that he wouldn't have taken her if he was going to kill her. Get Matt." 

Logan ended the call and stared at the building, hating that he couldn't act on the situation immediately. 

* * * 

He had just walked into the apartment when the girl began to stir. He had hoped to have gotten her into the guest bedroom and restrained before she started to shake off the effects of the serum, but it didn't appear he would get what he wanted. In theory she should have been out for hours, so he was confused as to how she could be coming to so soon. He set his briefcase down and placed her on the couch. She rolled onto her side, her back facing him, and he now knew why she was able to fight the serum. 

He touched the barcode on the back of her neck and smiled to himself. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and flipped it open, but did not immediately dial. 

_This certainly makes it a new ball game. If Deck knew I had one of his kids, he would have every available soldier swarming around my apartment. I can't have questions like that surrounding my reputation. No, I'll tell Deck later and drop her off somewhere._ He thought, then put his cellphone back in his pocket. He took off his coat and went to hang it by the door, then walked into his study, whistling. 

* * * 

Outside, Logan had his cellphone out again and was waiting for Matt to be put on the line. 

_"Logan?"_

"Matt!" Logan exclaimed. "Where are you? Where is everyone? Didn't Bling call you?" 

_"He called."_ Matt told him. _"We just can't get over there right now. There was a huge food riot down at the South Market and everyone's on it. It's top priority right now. The captain's not taking any men off it."_

"You can't do anything?" Logan was desperate. 

_"Not right now."_ Matt said. _"I'm trying to siphon guys off and get them up there, but it's not going to be easy. I know he's got your girl, but promise me you'll be careful."_

"Yeah." Logan sighed and disconnected the call. He glanced at the glove compartment, where his gun was currently hidden, and his jaw clenched. 


	15. Fourteen : Confessions

Max was fully awake, but not at full strength. She was in a bedroom, a bedroom that obviously belonged to someone very well off, and was handcuffed to the radiator that was positioned just behind the bed. She struggled against the handcuffs, but found she was unable to free herself. She rested her head on the pillow and tried to remember what happened. All she could make out of the fog that was her memory of the event, was that she had entered a bedroom and then felt something slap onto her face. 

She gave up on trying to remember and began wondering what had become of Logan. She thought, I hope he didn't get that message. _I hope he didn't come and I hope he's all right. Oh God, if I find out he got that message and - and - I'll never forgive myself. I will never forgive myself for any of this. If I wasn't so damn touchy and impulsive this would never have happened. God I hope he's all right._

The door to the bedroom opened and an elderly man entered the room. He walked with a spring in his step and didn't appear to be more than sixty. His skin was slightly bronzed and was a subtle contrast to his snowy white hair, unlike the pre-Pulse Bob Barker. His eyes were gray and sharp, darting around and taking everything in within the blink of an eye. If Max didn't have the vision she did, she would have missed his surveying of the room. He grinned down at her and made his way over to the bed, careful to keep his distance. Max decided that he couldn't be her attacker, but maybe his employer. 

"Who are you?" She asked. 

The man chuckled. "My name is Martin Price. If you want to be formal, it would be _Sergeant_ Martin Price. Well, former anyway." 

Max knew she had heard the name before, but couldn't recall where. "What's going on? You the guy in charge? Who's doing it?" 

"You are a smart girl." Martin smiled. "But not smart enough it seems. It has been _my_ marksmanship." 

"It was _you_ who took me out in that house? _You_?" 

"Don't let appearances fool you, my dear." Martin said. "I'm very skilled. I heard you coming up the stairs and down the hall. I was prepared and you weren't." 

"But why would you do it? Why kill those people? It doesn't make sense." 

Martin shrugged. "An old friend asked me to help him take care of some troublesome people." 

Suddenly, something flickered in Max's mind. 

_She was still in Manticore and only about six years old. Lydecker entered the classroom and introduced a man... Martin Price. He gave them a lesson on Remington rifles._

"What is it?" Martin frowned. "I don't like being out of the loop." 

"You were in Vietnam." Max spoke slowly as she remembered. "You were the top sniper. You met Lydecker later in the army. You've been using your military experience to kill those people. Lydecker's behind this, isn't he?" 

"You're X5." Martin said quietly. "I only gave one lecture at Manticore and it was to the X5s. They would be the only ones to remember." 

Max shook her head. "Why would you do it? From what I learned about the war, you were a hero. You actually saved people, you helped. Why start working for the bad guys?" 

"My country, my government, they aren't the bad guys." Martin told her. "The people, the informants of that cyber terrorist Eyes Only, _they_ are the bad guys." 

"They must've loved you in the army, taking in everything they told you and accepting it as the truth. Too bad you never figured out the lie." 

"And I suppose you have." Martin said. "I've got many years on you, girl, and I've seen a lot worse than you have. Tell me, have you seen a real battlefield? Not a simulated one? Have you seen your fellow soldiers fall at the hands of the enemy? I'm seventy-five years old, I'm sure I've seen more of this brutal world than you have." 

Max glared at him. "Have you been tortured and dissected by your supposed friendlies? Have you seen your brothers and sisters _murdered_ for a cause that will never matter? You may have lived longer than I have, but you have no idea about the things I've seen." 

The phone began ringing shrilly and Martin moved to the door. He stopped before leaving and turned back to Max. "It seems we'll have to finish this conversation later. In the meantime, I have to give a briefing." 

Max wanted to yell something at his retreating figure, but couldn't find the words. She tried to ignore the anger that was bubbling in the pit of her stomach and began formulating an escape. 

  
  
A/N: If you remembers my first author's note about the calculator, Martin's age is why I had to use one. I wasn't sure if the Vietnam angle would work or not. I may be a year or two off, but I think it works out all right. 


	16. Fifteen : It's All About Sitting Tight

Logan slammed his hand down on the steering wheel when he again heard the _"Customer unavailable"_ message when he dialed Matt's cellphone. He looked at the glove compartment, debating whether or not to just burst into the place. He sighed and tore his eyes away from the compartment then stared at the building. 

_I wouldn't get very far._ He thought. _There's either a doorman, concierge, super, or even building secretary that would ask questions. I wouldn't be able to get to the apartment without one of them getting in the way. I don't even know what - or who - he's got up there. I don't even know where "up there" is. And if they did stop me, they'd probably warn him and then what would happen to Max? I hope she's all right..._

* * * 

Max pulled on the handcuffs, trying to free herself, but still had no luck. She cursed audibly and rested. Before she could try her next idea, Martin came back into the room, carrying a chair with him. He set up the chair in the middle of the room, close enough to speak with her but far enough away to be safe from any attack she might try. He sat down and looked at his watch. 

"The serum should still be effective on your muscular system." He said. 

"When I get out of here -" 

"When you get out of here, it will not be of your own doing." Martin interrupted. "I imagine that even if you could free yourself, I might still best you in hand to hand." 

Max scoffed. "With my genetics? Please." 

"You'd still be weak." Martin shook his head. "And I've had far more training than you could even imagine." 

"We're not playing that game again, are we?" Max rolled her eyes. 

"It's curious." Martin said slowly. "From what I've learned about Manticore, a defiance such as yours should not exist, even if you have been living in this world for ten years." 

"X5s were made with a bit of something special." She shrugged. "Independence and all that. What, Lydecker never told you about the night a bunch of kids got the better of him and his mod squad?" 

"He never mentioned to me the details of the escape." He shrugged. "But I never did ask." 

"If I could escape from a secure facility when I was nine years old, you think your little luxury apartment is going to stop me now?" 

"Maybe not." Martin said. He slowly reached behind his back and pulled a Glock into his lap. "But at such close range, are you willing to risk it?" 

Max was nervous, but didn't let it show. "Deck wants me alive. You wouldn't." 

"If it was in self defense, he would forgive me." Martin told her. "After all, if you could escape from a secure facility when you were only nine years old, how could I stop you from leaving my luxurious apartment?" 

* * * 

When his cellphone began ringing, Logan snatched it up from the passenger's seat immediately. "Hello?" 

_"Logan, it's Matt."_

"What's going on?" Logan was impatient. 

_"Look, I could only get a few guys to come with me now, but we're coming. Sit tight."_

Matt ended the call and Logan tossed his cellphone on the passenger's seat. He reached over to the glove compartment, popped it open, and took out his gun. 


	17. Sixteen : Layered

"I said I'd meet you, didn't I?" 

Max heard Martin on the phone. She wasn't sure who he was talking to, but she really hoped it was the pizza delivery boy. 

"All right, then it is. I'll see you there." 

Martin walked into the room, holding his phone in one hand and the gun in the other. He smiled down at Max then sat back down in the chair he had brought in. He set the phone on the floor and placed the gun in his lap with one hand covering it. 

"I'm sure you heard everything." 

She shrugged. "I heard some things." 

"I should be able to take you there without much trouble." Martin said and glanced at his watch. "The serum should be effective for a few more hours." 

"So, what do you get for placing me back in the arms of Mangelo, huh? What sort of good little soldier awards do you get for helping my dear old dad out?" Max glared at him. 

Martin chuckled. "Just the satisfaction of helping my country, of doing something for this world... and a handsome paycheck, just like I've been getting for my other work." 

"You won't get away with it, you know. The police are closing in on you." Max knew that the police had absolutely no clue about Martin's identity, but she figured that putting him in a bit of a panic couldn't hurt. He might make a mistake or two. 

"That's an interesting take on the situation." Martin said slowly. "It's a pity it is totally and completely wrong. I know what I have - or haven't - left behind. Besides, they won't be able to keep me for long." 

Max scoffed. "If you think Lydecker's going to bother pulling your ass out of jail, you're nuts. He'll let you rot in there. He'd let his own _mother_ rot in jail if it kept Manticore under wraps, so what makes you think he'd bother to get you out?" 

Martin snarled, "I could bury him." 

"What would your commanders say now?" Max said quietly, with a smirk. "You just betrayed information to your enemy." 

"I think you're wrong." 

"I think the deep seeded, secret hatred is a big giveaway." Max said. "You don't trust him. If you were Manticore, they would be so disappointed in you." 

"You seem to believe that you are all knowing." Martin shook his head. "A soldier should always realize that the enemy will have other tricks up their sleeves." 

"Well," Max smirked. "Then you caught a girl who's wearing layers." 

* * * 

Logan's cellphone rang and he answered it. "Matt?" 

_"Yeah, Logan, we'll be there soon."_


	18. Seventeen : The Head's Ball Field

"You can't trust him, you know." 

"Quiet." 

"He wouldn't hesitate to kill you if he had to." 

"Be quiet." 

"You mean nothing to him. He doesn't know what friendship is." 

"Shut up." 

"Once he gets me he won't need you anymore. You'll end up dead." 

Martin pointed the gun at Max's head, training it between her eyes. "That's enough out of you now." 

"You wouldn't." Max dared. "You know that I'm telling the truth and that if you shot me, it'd be all over for you, and you're not willing to risk that, are you?" 

Martin cocked the gun and shrugged. "I would be dying for the right reasons. I would have killed you, a threat. It would be just the same as killing an enemy soldier." 

"It's always people like you who say my sibs and I are threats and terrors." Max shook her head. "You all must not believe in mirrors, huh?" 

* * * 

Logan got out of the car when he saw Matt pull up behind him. He went around to meet Matt as he exited his car. He looked over the two other men that Matt had managed to rustle up and decided that they would do. "Let's go." 

"Hold on." Matt shook his head. "We don't know what he's got up there." 

"Max is up there." Logan protested. "We need to go _now_." 

The two other men had moved to the trunk of the car and one popped it open. They began pulling bullet proof vests out and putting them on. One of the men pulled his gun from his holster and loaded it, then looked at Logan. "Your heart's trying to get in on the head's game here. There's a whole 'nother ball field for that." 

Matt nodded and handed Logan a vest. "Put this on." 

* * * 

"It should be time for us to go soon." Martin mumbled, looking at his watch. 

"I won't be going anywhere." 

"You're a foolish girl for thinking you can escape this situation." Martin shook his head. 

"And you're a foolish man for thinking you can control it." 

* * * 

It didn't take much for the small group to get past the doorman and security guard, just a quick flash of Matt's badge and they blazed right on by. They stepped into the elevator and Matt waited until the doors closed before sharing his plan. 

"We don't know what floor they're on," He said. "So we're gonna break up into pairs and hit each floor." 

"That'll take forever." Logan objected. 

"It's the only way we have to go about this." Matt frowned. 

"Maybe not..." Logan said, suddenly getting an idea. 

* * * 

Max was more than relieved when Martin got up and left the room. She listened to his footsteps fall away, then began working on freeing herself from the handcuffs. Since force wasn't going to do it, she needed to rely on some of the tricks she had learned along the way. She swung her legs off the bed and sat sideways, the handcuffs restricting the motion of most of her upper body. She kicked off a shoe and scooted back onto the bed. Using her foot, she opened the drawer of the night stand and peered inside. 

A wide grin spread across her face when she saw a safety pin in the far corner of the drawer. It quickly faded when she realized she wouldn't be able to get to it without some trouble. She sighed then brought her foot in reach of her hands and peeled off her sock. She then reached into the drawer with her foot and used her big toe to pull the safety pin closer. She pressed her foot down onto it so it would stick to her skin, then carefully brought her foot toward her. 

She managed to open the safety pin and got to work. As she was working, she heard someone knock on the door and panicked. She finished quickly and managed to free herself of the cuffs. Quickly as she could, she put her sock and shoe back on, then crept from the room. 

  
  
A/N: How'd you like Max's tactic of getting the safety pin out of the drawer? I had to think on that for a bit. 


	19. Eighteen : What A Delivery, Matt!

After Logan told the others about watching the sniper carry Max into the building, one of the men approached the doorman, flashed his badge and demanded to know who had carried a girl into the building. The doorman told him that Martin Price, in Suite 65, had carried his niece up to his apartment because she was a terrible drinker and had passed out. The man returned to the group and told them the information. They were now standing outside of Martin's apartment. 

Matt told them to stay back, then wrapped his coat around himself to hide his vest and knocked on the door. When no one answered, Matt improvised. "Delivery for a Mr. Price." 

* * * 

Max had slipped into a hall closet and listened. There was more knocking, then a pause, then a voice. She knew that voice. It was Matt! She was tempted to rush from her hiding place and throw open the door, but knew better. Martin had probably returned to the bedroom and found her missing. He would be waiting for her to show herself now, gun in hand. His words echoed in her head. _If it was in self defense, he would forgive me._

Matt was louder this time. "Delivery for Mr. Price!" 

Max heard footsteps in the hall and knew Martin was going to the door. After she made sure he had disappeared into the living room, she slowly opened the closet door and slid carefully out. She walked slowly and carefully, not wanting to alert Martin to her presence. She walked toward the living room and stopped when she got a clear view of him. He was looking through the peephole in the door, the gun still clutched in his hand. 

"Delivery!" Matt's voice sounded again, louder this time. 

Martin shook his head when he saw no package. _Typically transparent_, he thought as he moved away from the door. He let his hands fall limply to his sides and went to the window. 

Max darted behind the couch before he could see her. She damned the lack of her usual speed and strength as she looked at the door. _If I was myself, I could take him out and open that door with a smile._ She thought angrily. She peeked over the couch and found Martin no longer looking out the window, but directly at her. She let out a gasp and ducked behind the couch. 

Martin stormed over to the couch, gun raised and ready. He jumped up onto the cushions and pointed the gun downward. He didn't fire, however, because Max had managed to disappear from his sight. He felt something touch his back, then found himself falling over the edge of the couch and onto the floor. 

Max dove over the couch and on top of him. She punched him as hard as she could manage, then tried to grab the gun from his grasp. He grabbed hold of her shoulder and pushed her down, then kneed her in the stomach. She grunted but wouldn't allow herself to give in to any pain. Again she reached for the gun, but this time she just bumped into his hand with her shoulder, causing his finger to press down on the trigger and the gun to go off. 

* * * 

After the group in the hallway heard the shot, Matt ordered the men to break down the door. The two men approached the door and kicked out at the same time, causing tiny splinters to shoot off from near the hinges. It only took one more kick for the door to snap and fall to the floor. The two men rushed into the apartment, followed closely by Logan and Matt. 

Logan immediately rushed over and pulled Max away from Martin. He could see blood soaking through Martin's shirt and wondered just how much damage Max had managed to inflict upon the man, but when Max gave a sharp groan and her hand flew up to her shoulder, he knew he had been wrong. 

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" He asked quickly, looking down at Max and examining her. 

She removed her hand shakily and showed Logan where the bullet had entered and lodged itself in her clavicle. She tried grinning, but couldn't manage. "Not so bad." 

"Logan, get her to a hospital." Matt ordered as he helped the other two men restrain Martin. 

"Yeah." One of the men grunted as he handcuffed Martin. "Get your girl outta here." 

Logan and Max spoke simultaneously. "She's not my -" and "I'm not his -" 

"Go!" Matt demanded. 

Logan put an arm around Max and helped her exit the apartment. He helped her down through the building and into the Aztek. He helped her into the passenger seat then quickly got into the car himself. 

"Just keep pressure on it." He told her and started the car. 

  
  
A/N: I could only get this chapter up 'cause I'm dead tired after a day of not-so-good shopping. 


	20. Nineteen : It's Them

Before she even opened her eyes, Max began grabbing at the tube in her nose that was there to help her breathe. She pulled it out successfully then began detaching anything and everything from her body. She opened her eyes and was glad to see that someone had closed the blinds in the room. She sat up for a moment, but immediately laid back down. She let out a groan and rubbed her hand where the IV had been. 

"Good to see you awake." 

Max turned toward the voice and saw Sam Carr in the doorway, smiling at her. He entered the room and walked over to her. He frowned when he saw that she had removed everything. "I was going to check your vitals, but I guess that's not an option. How about the stitches? Take those out too?" 

She looked up at him with bleary eyes. "Where's Logan?" 

"I thought that question might come up." Sam said. "He's in the waiting room." 

"Can I see him?" 

"I'll go get him." Sam smiled and left the room. 

A few moments later, Logan entered the room and took a seat in a chair beside her bed. "How're you feeling?" 

"Like I just woke up after being put under." Max replied with a small smile. She noticed that he was hiding something behind his back, but didn't say anything about it. "I've only got fuzzy details after that whole getting shot thing." 

"Yeah, I hear that's a real downer." Logan grinned. 

"They got him, right?" She asked. 

"Yeah." Logan told her. "There was enough evidence in the apartment to send him away for a very long time. You solved the case... sort of." 

Max shook her head. "He was working for Lydecker. He'll get out." 

"How about we worry about that when it's time to worry about it?" 

"Sounds good." Max nodded. 

"So, uh, I got you something." He pulled a bottle of motor oil from behind his back and set it on the night stand next to her bed. "It's not flowers or candy, but it's... Max." 

She smiled at him. "Definitely. But what's it for? A 'you just got shot' gift?" 

"More like an 'I'm sorry you thought I didn't trust you and you got shot because of it' gift." 

Max stifled a laugh. "Trust me, it's better I got shot. If you didn't send me on that damn goose chase, I'd probably be walled up in Manticore right now. Thanks." 

Logan just replied with a quiet, "Anytime." 

* * * * 

Lydecker swore angrily as he exited the truck. He told the driver to keep it running then stormed into the police station. He brushed past every officer who tried to stop him and opened the door to the chief's office. He stood in front of the chief's desk and looked down at him. 

"You've got a government prisoner here." 

"Sir, you'll have to wait out in the -" 

"I'm here to collect him, under federal orders." 

The chief stared at him for a moment, then typed in a few commands on his computer. The list of the day's arrests popped up on screen. "What's the name?" 

"Martin Price." 

"Oh." The chief shook his head slowly. "I can't release him. He's here on multiple homicides and -" 

"I think you may not have been listening when I said I was here on _federal orders_ to collect him." Lydecker said. "I've got a truck outside waiting to intercept him. This is out of your hands." 

With that, Lydecker removed a piece of paper from his jacket and placed it on the desk. It was the order for the chief to release Martin into Lydecker's custody. The chief read it over, then nodded. 

"I'll take you to him." 

* * * * 

Martin exited the police station with Lydecker, in handcuffs and escorted by a Manticore guard. The guard placed Martin in the back of the truck, then Lydecker got in and closed the door behind him. 

Martin shook his head and grinned. "She said you wouldn't come. I knew she was wrong." 

"My kids are very perceptive, Martin." Lydecker said. He felt the truck rumbling underneath him, which meant that they were driving off. "She was right about some things, I'm sure. You're a liability now, you realize that?" 

"I don't think so." Martin shook his head. 

Lydecker pulled a gun from his jacket, then grabbed a silencer from next to him on the seat and put it on the gun. He inspected his work, then paused and looked at Martin. "I didn't make my kids out to be fools." 

He pointed the gun at Martin. "It's just a shame that you can't teach all people not to be foolish." 

Without another word, Lydecker pulled the trigger. The final look in Martin's eyes was not one of surprise or shock. The bullet lodged itself between Martin's eyes and a small trickle of blood began to flow from the wound. The truck pulled to a stop and his body fell from the seat and onto the floor. Lydecker shook his head and removed the silencer from the gun. 

He looked out the small window in the door of the truck and promised himself that he would find her. He would find _all_ of his kids someday. 

Someday. 

The End. 

  
  
A/N: It's sad to see it go. I wasn't sure if I should end it like that, but I had watched some S1 episodes after I had finished writing it and that's sort of the way it goes. "Everything's okay... for now, mwhahaha." Now I have some other things work on. In you-know-who's words, "I'll be back." ;) 


End file.
